Brody by Cheryl Douglas Read Free Book Online Page B

were here, where I could keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe, but I knew my sister. She wouldn’t allow fear to dictate her actions or stand in the way of her dreams.
    “What would I do if I stayed here?” she asked, looking solemn. “Music is my life. I opted out of college because I told Mom and Dad I didn’t want or need a Plan B, remember?”
    She’d been so fiercely determined when she moved to Nashville, and as her big sister, I’d been so proud of her. It never even entered my mind she wouldn’t make it. When Macy set a goal, she accomplished it, and with her talent, I just assumed a record deal was a given. Apparently we’d all been a little naïve, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I hadn’t played the devil’s advocate.
    “Dad can always use extra help at the chiropractic clinic, especially now that Leila’s on mat leave.” I wasn’t as hungry as I’d been when I came in, but I forced another mouthful of Chow Mein down, since I’d skipped lunch. “It would be short-term work, but that would give you some time to make a bit of money, figure out where you want to go from here.”
    “Ugh, work for Dad? You’ve got to be kidding.”
    My sister and our father were like oil and water. He was a stickler for playing by the rules while Macy had always believed in making and breaking her own rules.
    “How about coming to work for me?” I thought it would be fun to have her by my side every day. “I can always use help leading up to events, especially the day of, with set-up and—”
    “I love you for offering,” she said, raising her hand, “but if I need a job, I can find my own.”
    “Doing…?” I didn’t want to be the one to remind her that her skill-set revolved around music and there weren’t a lot of well-paying jobs in that field, as she well knew.
    “I don’t know. There are a bunch of music schools around. I may not have a fancy degree or formal training, but I can play a bunch of instruments. Maybe I could work at a place like that, give vocal lessons or…” She shook her head before stuffing her mouth full of food. “I’m getting way ahead of myself.”
    “It sounds to me like you’ve been thinking about this for a while. Have you?” As she continued to pick through her food, I asked, “Well? Have you been thinking about coming back home?”
    “I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe. But I don’t want to talk about me anymore. I haven’t decided anything. When I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
    I curled my hand around hers. “Hey, just know that if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you. Always. No matter what’s going on in my life—”
    “I know,” she said, cutting me off as she squeezed my hand. “Same goes.”
     
    ***
     
    Brody had texted me late in the afternoon to let me know he was going to Seb’s for dinner, but when I pulled into the lot and saw his restored muscle car, I knew he’d beaten me home. Home. Damn it, I had to stop thinking like that. This was not Brody’s home. It was mine. And we were most definitely not playing house… no matter how much I might like to pretend we were.
    I’d always hoped we would one day live together, which was another reason this setup was a bad idea. It served to remind me how much I’d wanted a life with him, one that included a home and family, not shacking up until the urge to leave town struck him again.
    By the time I made it upstairs, I was peeved from how inconsiderate it was of Brody to blow into my life again, when we both knew he had no intention of staying.
    “Hey, babe.”
    I clenched my teeth. He did not have the right to call me that anymore! Nor did he have the right to look so gorgeous, stretched out on my couch as though he belonged in my world. He was wearing black athletic pants and a snug-fitting gray T-shirt. His dark hair was slicked back instead of styled, obviously damp from a recent shower.
    “Hey,” I said. “I saw your car